


HeatStroke

by ShatteredTearz



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Frigga, Brother/Brother Incest, Heat Stroke, Imprisonment, M/M, Odin's A+ Parenting, Poor Loki, Protective Thor, Pseudo-Incest, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2119533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredTearz/pseuds/ShatteredTearz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone in Asgard pretty much knows the Frost Giants are immune to the cold. But did they know they're sensitive to the heat? Loki seems to find this out the hard way when the prison vents decide to malfunction. (kind of insertion AU. takes place after Loki gets imprisoned but before Jane gets to Asgard in Thor:2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why the Hel is it so hot?

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY. welcome to my first ever thor fic. i'm sorry if anything here is kinda butchered since, one, i haven't written fanfics in ages, and two, ive never ever written a fic for this fandom. but hey. loki gets hurt and its funny so. i think this is a win/win fic, my friends. enjoy. Ps, you can read this on tumblr too by copying this link (http://helmofhades.tumblr.com/post/94443685326/heatstroke-part-1)

You know how basements were usually cold. That dark, dank musty chill that hung in the air like some thick smog. Most of the time, they reminded the ex-asgardian of a home he'd barely been to. But alas, today was not the day for spur of the moment wanderlust. Today, Loki awoke to the feeling of a strange heat clinging to his skin. He groaned and furrowed his brows, not even bothering to open his eyes to the stark white prison ceiling. It was always that ceiling. Always that same old fucking tint of alabaster. Such brightness should make a man go insane.

  
The jotun frustratingly rolled over onto his side, tugging the woven blanket with him. It's soft tassels gently tickled his cheeks as he curled into it, gently breathing in the soft scent of Asgard. Well, it smelled a bit less like Asgard now. More like a Tesseract toting giant bent on galactic domination, but that wasn't the point. The grimy heat was beginning to nip at his form, causing him to let out another annoyed groan. For a moment, he curled further into the sweet, comforting blanket before realizing wool and heat isn't the best combination. He huffed and rolled over onto his back again, finally flicking open his eyes. That white ceiling was taunting him. It's perfect sleekness. It's flawless surface. Oh good gods, it was getting kind of hot.

  
Gently tugging at the collar of his linen shirt, Loki sat up and crossed his legs atop the bed, glancing out towards the other cells. That thin, yellowish wall tinted everything beyond, but it wasn't too bad. In fact, it almost gave things a cheery atmosphere. Almost. A few of the other prisoners seemed slightly agitated. Perhaps they noticed the temperature difference as well. His tugging grew a tad more frustrated, causing the thin cloth to wave a bit. This allowing a small, but slightly cooling breeze down his upper chest. For a moment, he cracked a slight smirk at the sensation. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

  
He leaned back a bit, slipping his legs out from under himself before swinging off the bed and onto his feet. At once, he worked his talents and a blur of magic washed over him. His slightly tattered outfit was replaced by that familiar coat. The get-up he'd so proudly worn when he'd returned to this gods forsaken place. That unkempt bedhead was at once slicked back and he gently ran a hand over it to make sure every strand was in place. Granted, his previous attire was all he really had to his name in this cell, but he could dream... Couldn't he? He could could spice up prison life with some royal fashion. With some gold jewelry and well shined leather shoes. He gently tugged down the edges of his coat, making sure it fit well before briefly smirking. His gaze skimmed the other disheveled, filthy inmates. Well, at least one of us looks flawless, he thought.

  
The jotun quickly turned his attention to his other companions. No, not the stoic, snobby guards. Books. They were pretty much the only things in here besides him that didn't grunt and spit and itch their asscracks at the most inappropriate of times. Granted, he'd already read this around 5 or 6 times, but that was fine by him. Thankfully, his mother had supplied him with a few of his favorites. His smirk fell at that point, gaze slightly hardening. No, not his mother. Frigga had given them to him. He silently sat, picking up one of the well read tomes and gently running his fingers along the cover. She'd hand picked these... specifically for him. For a moment, he frowned, gaze narrowing. No. Let's not think about that. With a soft sigh, he flipped open the book and gently flicked through the slightly yellowed pages.

  
An hour or so melted past like ice in the summer sun, which was ironic since he, too, felt as if he was beginning to melt. It started with a bit of beading sweat on his forehead about 20 minutes in. Thoughtlessly, he patted it off with a stray rag. That poor rag just got wetter and wetter as time went on before it was promptly tossed towards the table across the room. Loki shot to his feet, slowly pacing towards the corner of the room as he buried his face in his hands. He could hear some of the prisoners complain about the heat. Even the guards were beginning to shift uneasily in their armor. But him? He was beginning to feel like he'd stuck his head in an oven.

  
Once reaching the corner of the room, he gently leaned his shoulder on the wall, one hand sliding down from his face to brace himself against the stark white fixture. The other gently fanned his face. More sweat was beading up and he quickly wiped it on his sleeve. The heat was... choking. It was growing into a sticky syrup that clung to his clammy skin. His cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink and he turned to rest his back up against the wall. The illusion about him changed, showing to the others how he effortlessly returned to his seat and took up his tomes again. Maybe this extensive heat was just in his cell. Maybe they wanted to see him pant and swoon like an animal. The other prisoners didn't seem that bothered by the temperature change. Sure, the heat seemed to make their asscracks a bit more itchy than usual, but they bared it for the most part. So it must be just his specific cell... right?

  
Loki's pitiful attempts to fan himself quickly failed as the heat grew. The beading sweat was too overbearing. Considering the rest of the prison populace was being fed an illusion, he didn't bother to wipe it away. In fact, it created a nice cooling sheen that softly chilled his forehead every time he fanned. A drop rolled down the side of his face and he lazily rubbed it off onto his sleeve. His hand grew weary and he switched the fanning to his left. Yet, even that was somewhat half-assed. This heat was simply draining his energy.

  
The usually quiet vents dotting the ceiling of the prison hallway choked and spluttered out a sudden gust of blazing air, complete with a bit of black soot. One of the guards jumped at the action, glancing towards the other with uneasiness. His companion gave him a bit of a nod and he headed out towards the main doors, possibly to notify someone of authority of this ventilation mishap. Meanwhile, the horridly hot gasses made the ex-Asgardian reel back and grimace. A wave of heated air seeped into his room and he found himself softly coughing against the unrelenting temperature. This was too much. He spied one of his thinner books on the table where he'd thrown that small rag. Perhaps he could turn it into some sort of make shift fan if he opened it.

  
The jotun gently pushed himself off the wall and stumbled towards the object, reaching for it and bracing himself up against the table once he'd arrived. The surface shook a bit as it took on this added weight. He quickly splayed open the cover and gripping the end of the spine in his palm, beating it hard to fan himself a bit better than before. The relief made him smirk and he gently reached up with his free hand to dab at the rolling sweat beads at his jawline. Speaking of sweat, the liquid itself now mimicked his rising body temperature a bit too much to his liking. Still slightly stumbling, he snatched the rag up as well and went to work at wiping down his face. Once he finished, he leaned on the table and tossed the rag behind him onto the surface. Switching the book to his other hand, it wasn't long till he found out his skin had gone dry.

  
His slight grin fell at this point. Even his fanning faltered a bit. A sudden, dizzying migraine hit him like a truck and the god faltered. For a moment, he dropped nearly all his weight on that poor table, causing it to suddenly slide back and slide out from under him. The next thing he knew, he'd hit the ground, partly having the wind knocked out of him. His back leaned against the tipped table surface, but he quickly sat up. His pulse began to race and the stifling heat nipped at his skin. His sweat-less face had flushed a deep red and he tried his best to scramble back to his feet. Still, his head spun and he could feel himself teetering. Oh gods, this was not good. As his vision spun, he tried to fumble his way towards the chair. Perhaps, if he could just sit down...

  
Loki's hands were just clutched the arm rests when he fell again. The chair slipped back, causing him to careen to his knees. Well, not completely to his knees. They were merely a few inches from the ground, wobbling feebly as his arms shook. Still, his vision swirled. He swore he saw two chairs at once and an odd blueness crawling up his wrists. The magical illusions slowly crumbled away and he was left poised there between collapsing and succeeding. He chose collapsing.

  
The jotun let his grip on the chair falter for one split second and he went careening to the ground. His hands were so weak. His arms were so weak. Hell, his EVERYTHING was so weak. His pulse was racing, but he could barely hear it thumping in his ears. Slightly curled on his side, he stared into the wavering white wall and tried to desperately gulp in every once of air as fast as he possibly could. Yet, all he came up with was dry, hot gas. He could feel his hands slightly shaking as he drew them closer to his chest, glancing up at that damned ceiling. That taunting fucking ceiling. It was only now that the ceiling seemed to laugh back at him.

  
He could hear the disturbed questions of the guards far far away. Oh gods, they sounded so far off. Probably in another room. They probably weren't even talking to him. Yet, they grew more and more upset. Possibly more worried. Oh well. That wasn't his problem. Speaking of his problems, how did he get on the floor again? Why was it so hot?


	2. Impulsive Princes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally just wrote this and my (unwilling) "editor" is away so forgive me if its a bit ooc kinda maybe. anyways, part 3's halfway done so i might post that later tonight or something. also sorry this one's kinda short. PS, tumblr link here (http://helmofhades.tumblr.com/post/94451932931/heatstroke-part-2)

"Sir..?"

For the most part, Thor was having a pretty decent morning. The parents were out and he was basically home alone. Well, not exactly alone. He did have quite the collection of guards around the palace. Okay, so he was MOSTLY home alone. Usually, kids would throw huge parties when their parents were away, regardless of when they'd be back. At least they'd joke about it. Thor didn't seem to be in the beer keg and strippers mood, however. As usual, he'd been nearly swooning and sighing at the windowsill, gazing out onto the landscape of Asgard. Probably thinking of his girlfriend... again...

Not like that was a bad thing. Jane was... a fantastic woman. A phenomenal Midgardian. He often longed for her gaze again. To hear her singsong voice ramble on and on about scientific equations and galactic anomalies and question whether or not he was even listening to her. At that point he probably would've simply played dumb and nodded, trying to return her conversation. Then she would've noticed he was CLEARLY not listening and then-

"Sir!"

The god jumped a bit at the sudden voice. Odin's beard, he was off in la la land again, wasn't he. He sat up and turned a bit towards the door, raising a brow. There, an awfully distraught looking guard stood straight, seeming to request his attention. "Yes..?" He gently pushed a wayward strand of blonde behind his ear as the woman approached a tad closer.  
"Mi'lord, I believe we have... an issue down in the prison..."

Well, then. That was somewhat worrisome. "An issue of what sort..?" he questioned, turning a bit more as his gaze narrowed. The guard seemed to fidget somewhat under his slight glare, which was equally as odd. Either she was new here, or she wasn't telling him something.  
"The ventilation system seems to have malfunctioned and the prisoners are starting to complain about the heat." His stare bored into her and she briefly glanced away, voice dropping to a bit of a mutter. "Also, Loki is acting... strangely...."

Oh no. That was it. "Define strangely." Thor's voice was painfully commanding, yet so soaked in brotherly worry that one might roll their eyes at it. Although, this seemed to be a better response to the problem than the guard anticipated, as she loosened up a bit. She honestly expected an "OOOOH WHAT'S MY BROTHER DOING /NOW/!?" or a "HE'S TRYING TO GET OUT AGAIN, ISN'T HE?!" The woman stood a bit straighter, face of worry slightly melting away. Surely Thor could fix this.

"He seemed to be handling the malfunction better than the other prisoners for a while. However, we believe that might have been an illusion. He's... collapsed in his cell. He won't respond to any of us."

"He WHAT?!" Oh god. Super protective brother mode, activate. Thor shot to his feet, his expression contorted with anxiousness and slight anger. He stormed towards the door, hair and cloak billowing behind him. Hell, he would've rushed down to the prisons in the span of a minute if it weren't for the guard stopping him.

"W-Wait! Sir!" She held up her hands, rushing to block his path as he approached the exit. Surely her next message was urgent for she didn't immediately melt beneath his glare. Reluctantly, the prince stopped, allowing her to interrupt his stride. Yet, he remained slightly impatient, drawing in a few deep breaths to regulate himself. "That's the problem. We don't exactly know if he's faking this as well... This display could very well be an illusion meant to trick us, mi'lord."

Okay. She had a point. A very valid point. Too often, Loki had feigned weakness to garner pity and kindness. And nearly every time Thor had fallen for it. How did he know his brother wasn't pulling that stunt again? For a moment, the god hesitated, glancing away. "If it is an illusion, however... He's doing a very good job. It's very.. convincing. But then again, he might not be faking it." " the guard muttered. Even she seemed to have her doubts. If he wasn't faking it, this could end up being a very serious condition for the jotun. And if he was, he'd have a good chance at escaping once more, making Thor look like a pining idiot and possibly threatening Midgard with destruction again. The situation seemed to boil down to a toss up between his brother's life, and the life of those he'd vowed to protect. A toss up to see if the boy was really crying wolf again. Thor had to choose wisely if this was ever going to pan out well. He had to plan his steps well. To provide aid if need be, but to also keep everyone safe if this was a false alarm. It wasn't something he could aimlessly jump into again without warning out of fear for Loki's life. Perhaps if he indirectly helped...

"I'll be the judge of that." God dammit.


	3. Thor gets his undies in a bunch and Loki is no help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my editor named this chapter i hope you like it. tumblr link (http://helmofhades.tumblr.com/post/94457838126/heatstroke-part-3)

It took about 20 minutes for Loki to roll over onto his back. He stared up at that wavering taunting ceiling with blood red eyes, his constant gasping shaking his chest. His entire face had flushed a deep blue and every breath made his eyes flutter. It felt like those times as a child when he'd sleep with the blankets pull over his head. After a while, breathing in all that stale air would give him slight headaches. Of course, at that time he could simply pull down the covers and greet his lungs with fresh, chilly air. Right now, it felt like the covers were glued to his face. 

The past 20 minutes had only allowed his cell to get hotter and hotter. Although they still bared the heat, the prisoners were fully disturbed at this point. Was Loki pulling a trick again? Or was there something about the air that they didn't know about? Was it poisoned? Was he having an accelerated reaction to whatever toxins it contained? Were they next? The soft mutters and questioning glances that cropped up when he collapsed were starting to turn into bickering and glares. Some outright began to call for the guards from behind those pale yellow walls. The only thing more disturbing to them than the fallen Loki seemed to be the fact that even the authority figures had no gods damned clue what was going on. A few of the prison guards had gone off to hunt down the reason for this vent malfunction. The others desperately tried to calm the inmates. Mostly by telling them to simply shut up. Cruel, but it worked at least.

Meanwhile, the jotun found his nausea growing worse. Even so much as looking around made his head spin. Thus, he resorted to simply closing his eyes and laying his cheek against the thankfully chilly floor. Good gods, he felt like he was dying. Was he dying? His brows furrowing and he let out a slightly frustrated groan. 'By Odin's beard, Loki..! Now's not the time to get morbid! You're not dying, you damn drama queen!', he thought to himself. Still, the migraines were coming back. He drew in as soft gasp as a suddenly cramp twisted in his shoulder blades. His grip on consciousness was beginning to slip and he found his eyes not wanting to open for a change. 

The sudden slamming of a door jolted him away. To form jumped a bit, eyes flicking open. This sudden movement made his vision swirl and he groaned, rolling back onto his side to face the wall. Oh gods. Please don't puke. Please don't puke please don't puke please don't-

"Brother?!"

Wait a minute. Loki blinked for a moment and he furrowed his brows, mind still whirling from nausea. Was that..? Did he just hear what he thought he heard? No, it couldn't be. He was just hearing things. Good gods, he really was dying, wasn't he?  
"Brother, answer me!"

Holy shit, that was. The ex-prince glanced back towards the pale yellow wall, his terrible balance making him teeter and roll onto his back again with a thump. It was... Thor? Wait, no. It was two Thors. Wait... three Thors? Why are there so many Thors. Where did they all come from. Since when did Thor use illusion magic? He studied his adopted brother for a long while, all while wearing an oddly concerned expression. He looked like a drunk man trying to do rocket science. 

"Th... Thor..?" The gilded prince was practically up against the pale barrier that kept them apart, looking over his now blue brother with concern. This was bad. Loki never revealed his true form so carelessly. Something was terribly wrong. Either that, or this was a terribly well crafted trap. 

The Asgardian grew more and more worried as his brother suddenly grinned and let out a delirious giggle. "Thor! It really is you! How lovely! You've finally decided to visit, huh?!" Those red eyes were half lidded as he rolled back onto his side, facing him now. He had a feeling his face wasn't supposed to be that deep of a blue.  
"Loki..!? Are you alright? Are you feeling okay?"

"What? Me?" He braced his head up in his palm, resting his elbow against the floor as he did so. He pointed to himself after his question with a lazily limp, lolling hand. Another grin stretched across his face and he let out a bit of a laugh, waving off those worried words. "I'm fine! I'm fiiiiine!!" He drew out the last word, head dipping downwards a bit as if he were fighting off sleep. "Don't worry about... little ol' me... What brings my great princely brother to my cell, anyways?!"

Thor was slightly stunned by his behavior. Trap or not, he'd never really seen his sibling act like this. Well, he had, actually. Only a few times. As children, it was rare that the two of them get sick. Loki caught them a bit more frequently than himself, but the diseases usually made him slightly loopy with exhaustion. Of course, he never got anywhere near THIS, but... The prince immediately dropped to his knees, trying to get somewhat face level to his sibling behind the barrier. "Loki! Listen to me! This is serious!" He motioned his hand generally towards the rest of the prison, to which the jotun responded with a raised brow.  
"No, this isn't Serious. This is a prison, Thor."

The gilded prince sighed softly, using that same hand to gently rub his temples. Loki rolled onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling once more. He mumbled something about how he should know that by now and how he was probably an idiot. Well, at least he was used to this. His brother tended to beat around the bush with things, either answering in ways he didn't want him to or specifically ignoring his queries. 

Thor stood at last, glancing about the prisons to note the other uncomfortable inmates. Even he was beginning to grow uncomfortable in this heat. Gaze returning to the delirious jotun, his expression hardened. He gently waved towards one of the guards. "Open the cell. Let me see him." Only silence followed and the prince glanced over at them. The one who'd informed him of the mishap was merely standing there, his jaw slightly hanging open in appalled shock. "Did you not hear me?!"

"I-! No! I mean, yes! I heard you, sir! It's just-!"

"Just what?!" His gaze hardened as well, the worry for his brother beginning to congeal into frustration. "Look, if this is about his solitary confinement thing, I don't want to hear it! Whatever... condition he has, staying here is only making it worse! Now let me see to him!" Such a spur of the moment and heartfelt speech didn't seem to meet his brother's ears. Still, the woman seemed hesitant. He had a feeling she was still unsure of Loki's actions. Even a part of him was uneasy as well. What if this /was/ a trick? For a moment, the strength in his expression faltered as he glanced back at his blue sibling. Yet, it quickly returned as he turned towards the guard. 

At last, she sighed and gave a bit of a bow. "Yes, sir..." came her mutter. Regardless of Thor's wish, a few of her colleagues drew their blades, forming into a loose group behind the prince if the royal prisoner decided he wanted to make a jailbreak. In a few moments, the barrier was down. Something in him whispered to wait a few moments before adding the jotun, but he failed to heed it's warnings. Not like there was anything to be worried about anyways. Right?

The gilded prince immediately rushed towards his brother, dropping to his knees. He pressed the back of his right hand to Loki's forehead and felt for a pulse with the other, looking him over. Normally, the sorcerer had a slight chill to him. Even before finding out his true lineage, his flesh was also oddly cold. At the moment, he held a blazing heat in his skin. His heartbeat was weak but rapid, like his breathing. After a few moments, he finally spoke up. "Loki..? Can you hear me..?" His voice was so soft. So gentle. Thankfully, this didn't make his brother's headache worse. The jotun didn't really respond in the way he anticipated. He merely let out a soft groan and laid his head back against the chilly floor, his gaze facing away from Thor. Those piercing red eyes fluttered closed and they once again became too heavy to open. Oh no. This was not good. If the asgardian wasn't panicking before, he surely was now. 

Thor muttered a soft curse to himself and quickly scooped the weak Loki into his arms, gently adjusting him so he was as comfortable as possible. The guards behind him shifted, growing more anxious as they came to realize their prince's decision. He slowly stood, briefly looking over his sibling. He then glanced up at the still uneasy soldiers, knowing full well they wouldn't take too well to him removing the god from his cell. Still, he tried to stay visibly confident that this was the best course of action. "I'm going to bring him to the medics... If any of you are still wary of him, you are free to follow along. Understood?" 

A few of them hesitantly nodded and a slight burden felt lifted from his shoulders. Still, an unspoken worry burned itself into the back of his mind. No. He could fuss over that later. With a slightly nervous smirk, the prince headed back towards the main doors. "Good. Try to get the vents fixed in the meantime. Let me know when it's safe for him to return." he called after those who decided to stay, which wasn't many to be honest. He probably had a pack of at least 12 guards on his tail as he proceeded. Like his brother, his own pulse began to rocket skyward, pace quickening as they grew farther from the prisons. Maybe this was a trick. Maybe Loki was trying to take advantage of his pity and escape the moment he was unattended. He shot a glance down at the jotun in his arms. His head had lolled back over his arm, lips slightly parted and eyes still closed. Every once in a while, his brows would furrow and he'd let out a soft, pained groan. Part of Thor honestly wished this was a trick.


	4. Loki, don't do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank (willingly) unwilling editor for another chapter title. also sorry it took so long to update. i got brief writer's block like halfway though. also that 450 views though.... tumblr link (http://helmofhades.tumblr.com/post/94490621681/heatstroke-part-4) (seriously though, i'm so glad you guys are enjoying this. i never intended for it to come this far it was only supposed to be like a few chapters)

"Where are we going..?"

They were almost there when Loki discovered he had a voice again. His head still lolled a bit as he glanced about. Their journey was... somewhat stalled, seeing as Thor had to take a few detours to avoid being seen with his delinquent, blue brother. "We're going to get you help, Loki. Please, don't move too much. Just rest, alright? Everything's going to be okay." He tried to hush his tone, staying as hidden from the palace populace as he could. The train of guards wasn't helping, however. Every step he took was echoed by 12 sets of shuffling armor. 

"Why..?"

Thor let out a sigh and peeked around a corner, spying a group of a few nobles touring the halls. "You're... sick. Something happened in the prisons and... Look, could you please-" He tried to shush his sibling, but he was having none of that shit.

"What do you mean sick? Like diseased..? Or Midgardian slang..?" The jotun let out a delirious laugh, half lidded eyes darting about. His temperature was still climbing and he was too used to swirling nausea to react to pain anymore. "Am I... Am I like... totally sick?" His spoke the slang words in a faux American accent, as if mocking humans. This seemed to amuse him, causing him to laugh even more. 

The gilded prince managed to tiptoe past the crowd, bolting down the halls once more. "Yes! Okay! Sure! You're 'totally sick'! Now will you PLEASE be QUIET!" he hissed in a hushed tone. For a moment, his brother was silent in his arms.

"Okay."

Finally, some well deserved silence. Of course, this relief was short lived once he realized his brother was actually complying with him. Had this heat done something? Something besides the obvious? Had it messed with his thoughts and personality? Oh gods, was it reversible?! He began to panic as thoughts raced through his head, his pace picking up as they neared the infirmary.

"Where are we going?"

Thor nearly sighed with relief.

\------

The doctors didn't seem too pleased when the prince of Asgard nearly busted down the doors of the infirmary. They were even less pleased when they saw who he was carrying. Still, they grudgingly took up his request. No matter how much they reassured him of Loki's survival, he insisted on over viewing the procedure. Not like he had to. The women merely tugged the jotun onto one of the cool examination tables, assessing his condition before proceeding. His brother seemed more or less out of it as his linen shirt was gently tugged off. Damp washcloths were dabbed along his neck and face after being briefly soaked in cool water. A few of the medics fanned him with... nearly anything in the general vicinity. The most common item was thick, card like paper. In an attempt to not seem so... useless, Thor helped tuck a few ice packs under his brother's torso. 

Not too long after, one of the doctors pulled him aside. "Is he going to be alright?" Of course, that was the first thing he'd think to ask. The prince's wide, worried eyes scanned the medic as she softly sighed, anxiety building up slowly the longer she paused. He briefly glanced over at the not so giant Frost Giant, wondering if he was too far along to help.  
"He's... He's suffering from a very bad heatstroke."

Thor returned his attention to her as she spoke, still anxious but trying to stay calm enough to absorb her explanation. "You've been to Jotunheim... You know first hand how cold that climate is. The Frost Giants are built for torrential blizzards, not... whatever kinds of heat he's been exposed to." So that's why a simple 90 degrees made him nearly faint. Once more, his gaze flickered towards his brother, watching how he still gasped for air and slightly shivered. Those somewhat parted lips quivered and his forehead held a wet sheen to it as if he'd regained his ability to sweat. Of course, he hadn't, but that splendid sight distracted the prince from all his wo- Whoa, hold on. What.

"-but we're doing the best we can. We haven't handled a case like this in... Well actually, I don't believe I've ever really handled a heat stroke situation in a jotun first hand before..." Upon his rude drop abck to reality, Thor noticed he'd been completely ignoring the poor doctor. Blinking a bit, he looked between her and his brother with an oddly distraught look on his face. Thankfully, she merely took it as brotherly worry. "It's alright. We'll take care of him as best we can." 

The two suddenly jumped as one of the medics yelped. Glancing over, Thor noticed his brother had sat up with... uncanny speed, startling one of the women. He glanced about with wide eyes, as if he'd been miraculously cured. Also, it seemed his grip on magic was returning. That textured blue began to creep away as Loki drew back from the medics, gaze eventually falling on the prince. At once, he was at the jotun's side. 

"Brother! A-Are you alright?! Are you... feeling any better?! Any headaches? Anything??" 

Loki still seemed somewhat stunned, the disorientation setting in more so than before. He even reeled slightly from Thor, slightly calming a bit when his shoulders were gripped by those familiar hands. Those familiar, caring hands. For a moment, he stared into his lap, mind muddled from the boiling shock his body had just gone through. Even now, he still felt a little warm. "I... I'm not... sure... What happened, again?" He remembered being in his cell. Waking up for another day of monotonous book reading and silently cackling at the dirty, filthy inmates when... Something happened. Something big.

"The vent system in the prisons seems to have... malfunctioned."

Thor hesitantly scooted up beside him the examination table, half sitting on it with one cheek and half bracing himself up with a foot to the polished marble floor. "The change of temperature seems to have giving you heat stroke. Well, it did... Are you sure you're alright?" The jotun glanced up at his sibling with a bit of a disbelieving look. Now he remembered. He felt like he was choking. Suffocating on stale air. The boiling heat felt like it had pierced his icy heart, killing him from the inside out. 

"I think... I think I'm good now." Still, he felt a bit odd after the ordeal. The muscle weakness had fled for now. In fact, so did the nausea and headaches. That was the odd thing. His symptoms were gone. The medic that had spoken to the gilded prince seemed to grow more and more worried as his strength increased. Loki gave a bit of a nod as if to answer his own words. "Yeah. I think I might be fine." he muttered mainly to himself.

The ex-asgardian suddenly swung his legs off the examination table and pushed himself up to stand, much to teh dismay of the room's inhabitants. The guards that once stood so still at the door drew their swords and quickly approached. Even the doctors drew back towards the walls. However, the soldiers stopped as Thor raised a hand, signaling them to freeze. It wasn't exactly a wise decision to try to escape while in a full room of people. Yet, one never exactly knew what Loki would do next. Still, the prince chose to wait and observe instead. The jotun had taken a few uneasy steps, much to his surprise. 

At the fourth, the worst of the symptoms ran him over like the Hulk. Like literally. A sudden spinning dizziness and pang of nausea sent him careening to the floor. Thankfully, one of the medics leaped down to catch him. Thor had practically tossed himself over the examination table, seeing as his brother got up on the opposite side he sat, to see to him. Once again, their voice were muffled. Far off and blurred. A familiar heat flickered up Loki's spine and he gave a bit of a shudder, finding himself in his brother's arms. "Okay... Maybe I'm not fine..." he muttered, eyelids flickering. Oh gods. Not now. Getting this tired so soon wasn't a good sign. Part of him tried to fight the sleepiness. To stay awake. The other merely shrugged, accepting the swift and sudden darkness that enveloped him.


	5. He can fix this... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at last, my editor gave me sucky titles. wow actual original title. but yeah, here you go. here's your daily dose of thorki brother angst fueled by sad 2007ish pop songs i hope you like it. tumblr link (http://helmofhades.tumblr.com/post/94505704281/heatstroke-part-5)

His brother was officially in a coma. Thor paced a bit before the door of the private room provided for his sibling. Loki laid not too far from him, hair splayed out on the pillow tucked lovingly beneath his head. Even while unconscious, it had been hard to get the guards out of the infirmary. Each room was rigged with an emergency barrier like those in the prison cells, should any of the patients snap and decide to attack their visitors. Thanks to it's special settings, it was rigged to go off if the jotun so much as stepped out of bed. So being alone with him wasn't so much of a big deal anymore. One less problem to worry about. 

Sadly, he now had a thousand more issues. Merely around an hour before, he'd been so gracefully informed that Odin and Frigga were returning from their trip. This was it. He was dead. His life was officially over. The two of them had left him to hold down the fort back on Asgard in their absence. Stupidly, he accepted. And now he'd been thrown into this clusterfuck of malfunctions and comatose siblings. If Odin found out he so much as BREATHED on Loki, he was dead. He was going to be grounded for the rest of his fucking life. He knew it. He'd never step foot outside of his room again. 

Thor paused his pacing, glancing over his brother's still slumbering form. This was the reason he was going to get in so much trouble. Yet, he couldn't find it in him to hate Loki. He never really could. Sure, he could somewhat resent him from time to time. He could damn well piss him off. Hell, he could even rally him into a frothing rage occasionally. But mostly, he just loved him too much. It was sort of a weakness of his. The prince sighed softly and strode over to his bedside, pulling up a chair to sit beside him. Those hands that once wielded horrifying weapons were neatly folded over his stomach over the thin, but soft blankets. Hesitantly, he reached out to gently grasp one. Those fingers were as chilly as he remembered them. The soft nip of cold in his palm made him smirk. How could his father imprison someone so precious? Oh yeah. He nearly killed billions of people. For fun.

But those were merely minor details, right? He tried to overlook it for the most part. And he usually tried not to think about his overlooking. He might have another moral dilemma on his hands. The gilded prince gripped his brother's hand a bit tighter, smirk falling. Loki was so insistent on reminding him that they weren't related. On top of that, he didn't seem interested on hearing that it didn't matter. He... was raised beside him. They grew up together. They played. They sparred. They fought together. He gently pulled up that limp, cold arm, clutching the jotun's hand in both his own. Elbows braced against the end of the bed, which only caused him to lean slightly forward, he gently pressed his forehead against those chilly knuckles. For a moment, he let his eyes slip closed. 

If someone told him of recent events years ago, he would've laughed in their face. Loki? Evil? Bent on galactic domination? BLASPHEMY! His time alone with him only made him realize how much he wanted to turn back time. He'd be sure to keep watch over his little brother. To make sure he never felt left out. To make sure he never felt unneeded and useless. To make sure he didn't grow up in his shadow. He wanted to show him how big of a silhouette he cast on his own. How the sheer light he produced could never condemn him to darkness. 

Thor pulled back a bit, still clutching Loki's hand but sitting back in his seat at last. A terribly depressed frown cursed his godly features. Sure, he did something wrong. He did A LOT of things wrong. He agreed that he deserved a punishment, but... Solitary confinement? Banned from seeing his family aside from holograms? Sure, a mere slap on the wrist wouldn't do, but simply shutting him away and forgetting about him for all eternity wouldn't fix anything. Maybe... Hell, maybe he could use this instance to prove something to Odin. If his brother behaved well, perhaps he could somewhat free him from his binds. At least get him a second chance of sorts. 

The god silently stood, pushing the chair back as he did so. Not once did he let go of his brother's icy hand. For a moment, he merely loomed over him, watching as his chest gently rose and fell. Shifting his grip, he freed a hand and hesitantly cupped it over his sibling's cheek. Heat stroke or not, he had a feeling his father would be merciless if he found out his brother was temporarily free. With a solemn frown, Thor leaned down... and gently planted a kiss on the jotun's forehead. "I'll fix this." he muttered softly to him. He hoped that he could somehow hear. "Just stay here and heal, alright..? I'll take care of everything. Don't you worry..." He replaced Loki's hand on his stomach and lingered for a few moments. After a bit, he managed to tear his gaze from the sight and finally stride with confidence out the door.


	6. Thor the oversized duckling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay since this took up the majority of my day i might not post the next part until like idk tomorrow or very late tonight. i have no clue but i hope you enjoy it alSO THAT 1000K HITS THO.

The first thing he did was bow. Not a full out, let's-grovel-on-the-ground bow. Not even a full waist bend bow. Just that expected, respectful tilt forward that paused for a brief second before pulling back up. "Thor!" His mother's voice seemed to slightly suppress his worry and he smiled upon looking up. Her awaiting arms pulled him into a hug and he quickly returned the action. "I missed you!"

"Mother, it was only two days..."

She tsked and rolled her eyes, pulling back but keeping a grip on his shoulders. Raising a brow, she smirked and shot him a bit of a playful glare. "And? That's supposed to mean something?" The goddess gave a bit of a laugh at her son's soft sigh and allowed him to briefly embrace his oncoming father. After their shorter hug, Odin gave the prince a firm pat on his back, sporting a smirk as well.

"There you are, my boy! I trust you've taken care of the palace in our absence..?"

At once, Thor nodded, trying to keep his nervousness composed and shoved away. "Of course! Although..." His voice stopped with an anxious pause, which he quickly broke through to uphold his confident posture. "There was a bit of a mishap in the prisons, but it wasn't anything too major. Merely a ventilation malfunction. The prisoners have been secured at another location until it's fixed." For a moment, he could feel his hands shivered with anxiety. The prince quickly folded them behind his back, tilting up his chin a bit and smiling slightly wider as if to make up for it. His father looked over him, lips pursed somewhat in thought. Oh gods, was he studying him? Did he notice? Could he see through him and his lies?

However, Odin quickly smiled and gave a nod. "Good. I trust none of them got out during the transfer?" Shit. Up until now, he wasn't really lieing to him so much as he was just skipping over certain parts. Now he really had to lie. For a moment, Thor's face was frozen in an odd, slightly shocked smile. If he full out lied to him, he knew the consequences would be much worse when he found out later. But if he told him now... all his hope and plans would be shut down before they ever had a chance to bloom.

"Uh, no! No, none of them attempted their escape. They're all accounted for. I promise."

His father briefly grinned and patted his shoulder once more. "Good! I'm glad you've been so responsible, Thor... Perhaps we should do this more often, hmm?" He'd glanced over at his wife during his last statement, shooting her a suggesting gaze. Frigga's look nearly paralyzed the prince. He hadn't noticed it before, having spent all his effort convincing his father instead. Her gaze was somewhat narrowed with concern, looking over the younger god as if with scrutiny. However, she perked up and quickly nodded at her husband's question. 

"Hmm? Oh, of course! I'm sorry. Go on ahead, love. I have a few... words of praise for our son. Is that alright?"

Fuck. He was dead. She saw right through him like a damn crystal ball. Thor paled and gulped down a lump in his throat, smiling nervously as his father answered with a few encouraging words he was too anxious to listen to. His parents shared brief kisses on the cheek before he left the two of them alone. Just him and Frigga. His hands shook even more as he watched his father go, partly wishing he'd call him at the last second to aid him with something. Anything to get out from under his mother's stare. He was even tempted to pull that whole "OH GOSH, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME! I HAVE TO GO." stunt.

Once out of earshot, Frigga slowly folded her arms, looking over her son. Thor hadn't made eye contact with her since Odin left and he no longer bothered to wear a smile. What was the use in hiding his shame from her. "So..." she spoke softly, keeping calm but still holding a hint of suspicion. "What happened." The prince couldn't answer her for a few moments, but he did manage to sheepishly glance up at her after a very long, interested observation of his feet. 

"W-What do you mean..?"

"Thor... Don't do this." Oh gods. The disappointment in her tone made him look back down again. "I know you too well. I know you're hiding something. Now, what did you screw up... If it's not too bad, I can help you fix it before your father finds out... He'll never know, alright?" He nearly wanted to burst out laughing. Fix it? If she could fix his comatose brother and sentence of imprisonment, he'd swear off all of life's pleasures for eternity. Perhaps it was his bottled up, nearly hysterical anxiety that made him briefly smirk. 

"Look, it's..." What the fuck are you thinking, Thor. Of COURSE, it's your fault. Well, not entirely, but you had a pretty big part in it. Do not even THINK of trying to make excuses. The prince sighed and shyed back a bit before looking back up at her. "About the whole... prisoner thing..." Her stare narrowed and somewhat hardened. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. He held up his hands a bit in surrender. "No one got out! I promise! They're ALL accounted for! I swear! It's just..." Okay, she was calming down. That was good. "It's about Loki."

Nope. Not good. Not good at all. Frigga perked up at once. Simultaneously, flames of motherly anger and worry flared up in her eyes. She stepped a bit closer, leaning in and speaking in a hushed tone. "What about him?! What happened? Is... Is he alright?" It seemed she was no longer angry at him, thankfully. Merely very very concerned. Thor let out a soft sigh of relief, grateful that she seemed to be willing to help.

"The malfunction sort of... spiked the temperature in his cell. In such a short amount of time, the rise of heat kind of gave him heat stroke. Apparently, jotuns can't handle hot climates for too long and..." He looked away, unable to meet that blazing glare. "I had to get him out of there. I took him up to the infirmary for help and... he seemed to have gotten better, if only for a moment. He'd cooled down a bit and sat up... He was even walking temporarily! But..." Hesitantly, he dragged his gaze back to hers. No hint of fury shot at him through her glare. Nothing that signaled he was in the wrong. "He... fell unconscious. He hasn't woken up since. I have him in a private room up at the infirmary, but... No one but us and the healers really know he's there. I fear father would explode if he found out."

The goddess pulled back, drawing her hands together and slightly fidgeting with her fingers as she thought. Her gaze briefly wandered across the floor and she nodded. "Yes... I fear he would as well." Nervously, she nibbled at the inside of her lip, gently biting at the edge. It was a habit he seemed to pick up from her. "No one else knows he's there..? You're sure about this?" Thor quickly nodded and she went back to her silent planning. "Alright. The room is well hidden, right?"

"Not exactly, but the healers will only allow us to enter. So, I suppose that's the same thing... right?"

Frigga briefly rolled her eyes. Yeah sure, she seemed to be thinking. That's EXACTLY the same thing, Thor. Great job. "Well, the place is secure enough, I suppose. At least no one will wander in on him while he's out." Another mind racking pause. "How long did they say it would take for him to wake up?" The prince shrugged.

"They... never mentioned it. I'm sorry."

Her expression seemed to falter a bit, yet she nodded at his words. "Alright. I'll ask them when we're down there. Come on." The goddess then turned, walking at a hurried pace and nearly leaving her son in the dust. However, he quickly kicked it into gear and raced after her. Tagging along, he found her heading towards the infirmary. The moment the medics saw her, a few quickly pointed to the hall that lead towards the private rooms.   
"Third on the right, your highness."

Even their voices were hushed. Frigga briefly smiled and thanked them before quickly following their directions, Thor scrambling behind her in a pitiful attempt to keep up. They almost looked like a mother duck and her fumbling over sized duckling as they rushed along. However, she stopped nearly on a dime when she reached the door. Her eldest almost tripped over her and toppled to the ground. Thankfully, he practically skidded to a halt beside her. 

Her hand hesitantly clutched the doorknob, pausing before turning it as if to give her time to compose herself. With a slow anxiousness, she gently pushed open the door, peering beyond with such worried curiosity. The hospital bed was straight across from the doorway, looking more like a royal guest room than a recovery cell. Drapes hung down from the arched windows, a soft breeze rolling in along with streaming sunlight. The raised bed held such a still, silent figure. His hands were folded over the blankets across his stomach just how Thor left him. 

At once, she bolted towards Loki's slumbering form, rushing to gather him into her arms. Thor paused, briefly raising a brow as she clutched the jotun's form and littered motherly pecks on his forehead. However, he quickly calmed. He'd nearly forgotten how little she'd seen of Loki recently. The only time she'd really spoken to him was through holograms. Even those were short lived and full of his suffocating cynicism. To finally be able to touch after so long. After thinking him to be dead. After nearly having him executed by her husband. His own father wanted him dead. And here he thought he was unlucky for only getting to hunt him down. He'd actually had contact with him, at least. The only thing Frigga got was a few wistful glances and depressing conversations. He nearly forgot how much she missed him.

Thor glanced up and down the hall for a moment, making sure no one saw them arrive. Even though he had his mother to help him with this dilemma, he still had to be careful. Even the most simple of witnesses could end up spoiling the whole thing to Odin. Then everything would come crashing down and he'd possibly get in trouble as well. The prince softly sighed before entering after his mother, closing the door behind him.


	7. Comas suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay im sorry this took so long but basically i was kind of an idiot and i burned my hand (well technically my wrist but) so typing over long intervals kinda hurt. also ive been having terrible writers block the past few days but here you go its finally here.

The healer couldn't seem to aid Frigga's worries too much. The only thing they could confirm was that Loki wouldn't wake for another day, if at all. The goddess was left lingering at his bedside, leaning back in the chair her eldest had pulled up for her. Thor tried to reassure his mother. He tried to tell her all would be well. That no sickness had kept his brother bed ridden for more than a few days. Heatstroke couldn't be any different, right? It wasn't long till he realized these words didn't do much. All they happened to be were empty, false promises, after all.

Frigga half leaned on the bed now, one hand clutching her adopted son's and the other gently combing through his ebony hair. Briefly, she'd twirl the end of a strand around her finger before releasing it, watching as it bounced back into it's natural waviness. She always loved his natural hair. When it wasn't slicked back, it was always so twisting and flowing. Nearly curly, even. 

On the side of the room opposite from her, Thor leaned up against the wide, arched window. He'd gently pulled the billowing drape aside, letting him gaze out upon the landscape of Asgard. The sun had left a blazing trail of brilliant golds and oranges along the sky as it set, blanketing the city in a muddled umber glow. It's dying golden light wafted into the room like a cool breeze. The queen glanced up at her older troubled prince, briefly watching his expression as it remained oddly tense against the setting sun's rays. Okay. She couldn't really play favorites here. Thor had nice hair, too.

Sadly, he was always too rambunctious as a child to sit still, thus barely giving her enough time to brush out the knots in his mane before he ran off to acquire new ones. She nearly cringed remembering the time he came back covering in mud with several twigs woven into his scalp. Even despite her warnings, he just HAD to climb that tree, didn't he. He HAD to roll in the fucking riverbed, huh. 

A slight twitching beneath her fingers made the woman perk up a bit, glancing downwards at her comatose son. It seemed he was wrapped within a dream, brows furrowed and head slowly tilting a bit to the side. Well, it was better than him simply laying still, now wasn't it. Up until now, a sliver of her thought he might be dead. Yet, this movement made her smirk, even if it seemed the dreams he was experiencing had upset him. With her other hand, she gently pet his silky mane, lingering her fingers at his forehead before brushing them along the strands that littered his pillow. It was something she'd done since he was young. Any night he had trouble sleeping, or simply anytime he was upset, his mother's touch seemed to calm him right down. A whining, squirming child would fall right asleep with merely a hand. Tears wiped away with a simply motion. Beneath her touch, the jotun's expression slowly untensed. His taut frown dissipated at last.

Once more, she was at ease. The goddess lingered her free hand on her son's cheek before returning it to her side. However, the soft shuffling of fabric made her glance upwards, spying her eldest scoot nearer. His gaze no longer focused on the skyline of Asgard. Instead, he stood beside the bed, looming over his brother just a tad. For a moment, he glanced over the jotun's form, silent worry etching his features. His mouth pulled into a taut frown and he folded his hands behind his back. The prince drew in a deep breath, held it for a second, and exhaled as if to break the silence. 

"Mother... I need to tell you something..."

\---

Loki had never been in so much pain before. Being thrown around by the Hulk was NOTHING compared to this shit. He felt like he was... burning. Constantly burning. Like flames were ripping and tearing at his flesh. Like all the fires of Hel clawed at his very soul. And yet he couldn't scream. Well, he couldn't do anything really. He could only lay there motionless. He couldn't fight against that constant burning sensation. In his mind, he could wail, but in reality, he was helpless. 

Occasionally, he heard voices. They'd start as muffled murmurs in his ears. Every once in a while, they were actually loud enough to decipher. In this void, he had nothing to hear but the crackling fires, and thus, he fully welcomed these words to bounce around in his head. "I'll fix this." Who's fixing what? Were they fixing this whole burning thing? 'Cause that would be nice. That would be really really nice. 

That statement had been echoing around him for what felt like hours now. The jotun nearly felt like he was going to go batty when the soft buzz of new conversation enveloped him. Yes. Yes! More gossip! He tried his hardest to stay attentive, all the while trying to ignore how he felt like he was burning alive. However, it stopped just as soon as it began. No! No, goddammit! He tried so hard to elicit a response from this useless heap of a body. He attempted to speak, but that didn't go over so well. Maybe... moving his foot? Nope. A finger twitch, perhaps? Nah. 

Just when he was on the verge of just saying "fuck it" and flopping down in frustrated defeat, he found his face suddenly contorting in pain. It was as close as he could get to wailing in annoyed agony. Why? Why him? Why did he have to go into a COMA?! Why did HE have to be the one sensitive to heat? Why did HE have to be the one with heatstroke? He wracked his mind for some sort of answer besides "Ha ha, the universe hates you." and his cheek gave a bit of a twitch in response, as if the mental exertion was trying to outwardly express itself. 

However, a sudden sensation enveloped his forehead. One that felt oh so familiar, but was something he couldn't identify. It slowly dragged up and over his head, along his hair that was splayed under him. For a moment, he could no longer feel the burning. Actually, he couldn't feel it at all. As in, he wasn't burning anymore. The jotun felt himself immediately relax and the space around him calmed. The hellish realm he was once cast into morphed into one of a relaxing room in the palace. Where exactly, he couldn't tell right now. Once again, he felt himself unable to control his limp form. At least he wasn't in pain anymore.

Unlike before, these new voices weren't muffled. They were crystal clear. As if they sat right beside him. Wait a minute. His left hand was engulfed by warmth and the sensation of rubbing skin sounded as it was shifted. He felt two presences. One to his left and right. They both seemed to mentally shiver beneath the oddly tense atmosphere. "What is it..?"

For a second, Loki nearly felt his heart flutter. Holy shit. Holy shit, it was Frigga. Frigga was sitting at his beside. Watching over him. Waiting for him. His mother had returned. Whoa. Wait. No. Don't get your hopes up, he thought. He suppressed the small sliver of a child in him, letting his emotions harden. Her voice had seemed worried. Plus, the odd air in the room didn't seem to encourage hopeful thoughts. "I have..." That was Thor's voice. He sounded so unsure. So distraught. It wasn't hard for the old brute to bleed out his emotions in his speech, but he'd never really heard him so... drowned in concern. "I have this plan... for Loki." He could hear Frigga sigh and her grip on his hand loosened. 

"Please tell me you're not thinking what I believe you're thinking, Thor..."

"Thinking what?!" His brother had only raised his voice a bit, but he felt him deflate as if he'd screamed at the goddess. After a few second of silence, he tensely sighed. "I'm... I'm sorry. It's just..." Loki could hear him pull up a chair as well to sit as he spoke. "I have to do SOMETHING about this. I can't just sit here idly while he wastes his life away in prison! What if-!" He stopped himself for some reason. Either Frigga had given him a terribly angry glare, or even he didn't want to think of his fake scenario. When he spoke again, his tone was hushed. "What if this happens again. What if we can't save him." His mother's grip tightened at this point and he briefly prayed he could squeeze back. 

"What is this plan of yours."

Her tone was to the point. Firm, but hiding worry. Even Thor seemed wary for a few moments. "Well... I'm- I'm not exactly saying father's decision was bad, but..." Oh no. He was going there, wasn't he. "I just think it a bit too... Not too harsh. Just..." The prince was quickly struggling for words, trying to balance between not shaming his father and attempting to explain his idea. "I don't feel like it was a wise course of action." Whoop. There it is.  
"Oh no..."

Frigga's grip faltered and she finally let go. The jotun nearly panicked at this lack of grounding contact. "Mother, please! I-! I won't do anything rash! I promise! I was only thinking... what if we tried to use this to our advantage?" That was not exactly the best crafted response and he knew his brother regretted it right away. He heard Frigga perk up in her seat and nearly lurch to her feet when Thor interrupted her. "Not like that! Not... Not exactly to OUR advantage. More towards his." Okay. She was calming down. This was working. "I'll explain what happened. I'll try to convince father to give him time to recover. Maybe..." Another hesitation. "Maybe we could try to convince father to slightly pardon him depending on his behavior during recovery..."

"Thor, that is-!"

"But we can't tell him about it! Neither of them, in fact. I hate to say it, but Loki might use it as a way to escape again. If he's as complacent in the prisons as you say, he should be well behaved. It'll be difficult, but... perhaps Odin will merely put him under house arrest. Perhaps we can..."

He didn't need to finish, much to Loki's distress. Perhaps we can..? We can what? We can WHAT, Thor?! We can WHAT! However, Frigga seemed to pick up on this, as she fell oddly silent. Once more, her gentle hands scooped up the jotun's limp ones and she grasped them tight. "Perhaps we can salvage him, mother... Perhaps we can finally crush his cruel intentions at last." Oh. So that's what this was about. Some half assed plan to sweep him off his villain-y feet and rescue him from the clutches of damnation. If he wasn't in a coma, he wouldn't vomited out of pure disgust by now.

However, he wouldn't be given the chance even if he was awake. The two were interrupted by another voice. "Lord Tho- Oh, greetings your highness." The young doctor seemed to briefly acknowledge Frigga before returning to the eldest prince. "My lord, your father has requested your presence." He heard his brother lean forward in his squeaky seat as he moved to stand.

"My presence? But I've already informed him of what ha-"

"Immediately." Oh, that wasn't good. Silence reigned for a few moments, in which Loki mentally groaned about his inability to see. He was sure Thor and Frigga were exchanging nervous gazes, but he wanted to see the uneasiness on their faces. Mostly just Thor's, though. His brother muttered a quick "Very well." before following the woman out the door. This left the jotun prince and his mother in silence once more.


	8. Shit gets real??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i finally wrote another chapter. i know i know WHERE THE FUCK AHVE YOU BEEN MAN. i dont even know like okay school started and like halfway through chapter 7 i saw teh winter soldier so ive been on a huge stucky kick lately (i might write a fic for that after this but idk) so i havent had many idea for this im sorry im an asshole i know. but seriously tho Mechabot person youre awesome and thank you for the comment it rly means a lot to see people are enjoying this. but anyways plz read and enjoy i hope i didnt make odin too stereotypically assholey

And he thought having his mother find out was bad. Thor nearly proceeded to his father's quarters with a walk of shame. Guilt gnawed at the back of his mind and anxiety welled in his throat. Surely, he'd been caught red handed. The prince had to pause for a moment on his journey, stopping to silently brace himself against a pillar. Alright... calm down, he thought to himself. Maybe Odin didn't notice Loki's absence. Maybe this was for something else. Maybe he was scot free this time! After a few moments, a small smirk crept over his face. Perhaps he could bring it up, though. Perhaps he could drop his hints and buy his brother a ticket to freedom!

  
Thor started up his walk once more. He gave the guards at the chamber door a nod before gently passing the threshold. The great stone doors shut behind him. Like with many of the rooms, the windows were tall and glass less. Long, sheer drapes gently billowed in the soft breeze that rolled in. Beside one of the windows, Odin stood tall, aura pulsing with a foreboding feel. His folded arms made even the confident Thor nervous. "You called for me, father..?"

"You lied, Thor."

  
Well, shit. At once, his ego diminished and his shoulder slightly drooped. Yup, he knew. He completely and totally knew. "I..." He felt that lump of anxiety rise in his throat once more. It itched at his flesh and a flurry of insects felt as if they were swarming in his gut. What could he say? He was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. There was no way he could tiptoe around this. "E-Excuse me?"

  
"You LIED!" His father's booming voice immediately made him step back. Odin whipped around, taring him down now. "You promised all the prisoners were accounted for, yet it appears Loki has gone MISSING!" The gilded prince was nearly backed against the door, a slight panic whirring in his mind. He held up his hands in a sort of surrender.

  
"I can explain, father!"  
"Then you'd better make it quick!"

  
"He-! I-!" Oh, pull yourself together, Thor! He mentally scolded his wired nerves, trying to keep calm. Perhaps he could still salvage this. "During the... malfunction, I was told he had strange reactions to the heat..! When I went to check on him, he was..." He paused for a moment, searching for words. "He was delirious! He even reverted to his true form in front of the entire prison! I thought... if he couldn't even keep up his illusions of pride, there must be something wrong."

  
"And then?"

  
Odin's glare still held strong. As his son spoke, he'd slowly strode towards him, stopping merely a few feet away. "I will admit... I did wrong you, father... I-... I removed him from his cell without permission." The stare that followed made him falter. "I took him to the infirmary! I feared for his life! What else could I do?! Leave him there to die?!"

  
The gilded prince was... appalled when his father scoffed. The king rolled his eyes a bit, turning away and heading back towards teh window. "So he hasn't escaped then..?" His son's silence seemed to answer his question. "Good. Get him back to his cell as soon as you can."

  
"Father, he's..."

  
Odin stopped, turningand shooting another glare as his son spoke once more. "He's fallen ill. The malfunction left him with a bad case of heatstroke." Thor paused, casting his gaze to the floor now. "He's fallen into a coma. We don't know when exactly he will awaken." He was sure that would at least produce a small emotional response, but he was once again let down.

"Well when he has, I'll be sure to relocate him right away." Thor perked up at his sire's words, growing more and more shocked by his behavior. He tried to reason with him. To cry out. To interrupt. Anything. Yet, Odin's raised hand signaled him to cease. Of course, he had to comply. "But enough of this talk..."

  
"But father-!"

  
"Enough." Okay, he tried to comply. "I do not wish to argue over this any longer..." The Allfather retreated back to the window, framed by the sun's setting rays. "Go... and see to him. I know you don't wish to linger here any longer than you have to." At least he was right about one thing. A long moment of silence reigned before Thor sighed.

  
"Very well. I wish you a good night then."

  
Oh lord, if his voice could hold anymore venom, his sire would've surely keeled over by now. The prince gave a slight bow, before turning and leaving his chambers. Once among the palace halls, he found himself... engulfed with fury. He was still quite nervous and ridden with guilt, but he was mostly angry. He'd missed his chance. If only he just told him right away. All of this would have been avoided! He promised he could fix this! And now he merely re-condemned his sibling to a life of solitude. He'd failed him.

  
The soft rumbled of thunder outside made Thor pause. He'd stopped along one of the great open halls, surrounded on both sides by gardens. He braced himself with a hand on one of the pillars and glanced out at the greenery. Thick clouds were slowly gathering over the city. Perhaps it was his rage that summoned them. Perhaps not. Either way, they roared. Bolts crackled along the horizon and a decent shower began to fall. He'd failed him.


	9. Everyone loves Loki (except Odin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sry about the lack of an update theres been lots of school stuff in the way and i fell out of the thor fandom for a while which definitely didn't help the writer's block i had for this. i'm actually a good ways into chapter 10 at the moment but its only now that im typing it cause i dont rly write on the computer i kinda do it by hand in a notebook and ill spare you the speech basically it takes a while. plz enjoy and there may or may not finally be some thorki in the next chapter. if not 10, then 11 for sure i promise.

Loki dreamed of flames that night. Of grand fires that grabbed and seared him. When he was allowed movement, he ran. He bolted through the scorching blaze as fast as his legs could carry him. Yet, he couldn't escape. When he could run no longer, he screamed. He wailed as the flames tugged him back into their suffocating grasp. This was how he died. Surely, this hell would consume him. He would perish here, never to see Asgard again.

  
Then he awoke to the soft sound of rain. Still convinced he was dying, the jotun found himself lurching forward, eyes flinging open. His incoming scream was reduced to broken, strained cries and soft squeaks. At once, his head began to pound. He found himself doubling over, clutching his head in his hands as he erupted into a fit of coughs. His throat was so sore. So scratchy and dry.  
"What-?! Brother! Brother, what's wrong!?" Thor had been so calmly napping at his bedside, relaxing in one of the many chairs strewn about the room. He leapt to his feet, startled awake by the sudden cry. At once, he tended to him. One arm laid over his back and the other gently gripped his shoulder. His panic began to flee when his brother groaned in response.

  
“Come now… Lay down. You’re still recovering.” Slowly but surely, he eased him back. Loki’s head hit the pillow with a shuddering gasp. His vision swirled and blurred. Thor’s touch was blistering against his skin and he found himself weakly pushing him away. Another cough. His form quaked as he nearly hacked up a lung, condition starting to worsen. “Alright. You… Stay here. I’ll be right back!” Oh gosh, where else can I go, Thor?! Please enlighten me, Loki thought with a scowl. He watched his brother race out of the room, leaving him to gasp for air. The soft rain outside seemed to grow worse, turning into a downpour. Thankfully, it made chilling air waft into the room, cooling his oncoming fever. Distant thunder rumbled outside of the window. That mere sound sent chills down his spine.

  
Thor returned at last. On the bedside table, he set down what looked to be a bronze goblet and a water jug. While he was pouring his brother a glass, the prince briefly glanced out the window. “It’s been raining all night and all morning…” Thankfully, Loki’s coughs seemed to diminish at this point. “They say it might go on all day, but… I guess that means a nice cool breeze for you, right?” He flashed him a small smirk before finally setting down the brightly painted jug. “Now…” He took the goblet in one hand and gently slid his arm under the jotun’s torso, leaning down. Slowly, he eased him upwards, helping him sit up halfway. He held the glass steady, waiting as that gentle hand slowly pushed the rim to his sibling’s lips. Hesitantly, he tipped it. Thor held it as still as he could while his brother drank, watching as his eyes fluttered shut and those clammy fingers slipped over his own. They hadn’t shared a quiet moment like this in ages. In merely a few seconds, Thor was already smiling.

  
The moment the water hit his parched tongue, Loki started to feel better. The soft twinge of honey and spice revealed it was more of a tea, to be honest. Sure, his throat stung a bit, but it was no longer dry. At last, he gently tipped the goblet up again and pulled back. “Is that enough..?” He nodded at his brother’s words, still softly gasping. Eventually, he was lowered back down onto the bed, feeling a heavy drowsiness sweep over him. “Are… Are you feeling well? Besides the obvious, I mean.” The gilded prince stood, setting down the glass and tugging his chair closer. Loki merely shot him a sleepy glare as he sat. “So you’re doing well, I take it?” the prince chuckled with a grin. Even while ill, his sibling always took a moment to let him know he loathed him.

  
An odd silence followed. Thor leaned forward in his seat, bracing his elbows on his knees. Clasping his hands together, he merely gazed at them. He simply observed his woven fingers. The jotun eventually switched his stare towards the ceiling. It was just as white as his prison cell. He decided he hated this ceiling just as much. “I was worried…” That voice made him look back over at his sibling. For a moment, they shared gazes until the jotun quickly looked away. “When I found you, you were nearly dead. I…” His gaze fell as well. Once more, the ex-Asgardian stared him down, looking over his suddenly sad expression. “I thought you wouldn’t made it…” His tone was soft. Quiet and laced with sorrow. For a moment, he almost felt bad.

  
“Why should I care?!” Loki found that scratchy hiss leaping from his lips before he had time to process it. Yet it was too late to take it back. To accommodate this, his stare morphed into a hard glare. “Surely you know how terrible of an idea it was..! I have no doubt Odin lectured you on how you should’ve left me there!” Oh god. The look in his brother’s face would’ve killed him, if he had a heart. He nearly looked shattered. Hurt and almost surprised, as if he thought their shared ordeal had helped change him. Obviously, it hadn’t. The realization of this made the prince look away, a saddened frown forming. Even the jotun glanced away. He gently nibbled at the inside of his lip, gaze focusing on the door. He had to admit it. Saving him was a terrible idea for his sibling, and he didn’t hesitate to let him know. For some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to be grateful. After all, this hospital room was just another prison. All Thor had done was take him from one cell and replaced him into a second. He thought… he had the right to be bitter.

  
The soft sound of rain outside filled the odd silence that followed. The gentle rumbles of thunder had grown more and more frequent, but it seemed Loki had grown numb to their presence. His gaze switched up to the ceiling when he realized the threshold wasn't going to open and miraculously sweep him off to freedom. He gently tugged the soft hospital blanket back atop his chest, folding his hands just over his stomach. “How long was I out for..?” he muttered, voice still weak and raspy.

  
Thor perked up at last at his tone, as if grateful he was no longer ignoring him. “Not too long, actually…” He paused as if trying to exactly calculate the time. “About ten or so hours, I believe. You went under yesterday afternoon…” He hesitated before giving him a small shrug. “I’m not sure exactly. But they said it would take a long time for you to awaken, if at all.” He motioned to the door at the mention of ‘they’, hinting at the medic that were surely beyond. “I’m honestly surprised you snapped out of it so quickly…”

  
Even that seemed to worry him to some degree. Like most of those raised on Asgard, he know little of the bodily functions of jotuns. Loki frowned harder and glanced to the side. It was an odd feeling to not understand one’s own body. He wasn’t sure if his early awakening was bad or good, although he assumed it was bad. “And how did His Majesty react to me being here…” The way he spoke of Odin was ruthless. The venom in those words was enough to make the gilded prince flinch a bit. “I’m guessing he’s not too pleased.”

  
Thor sighed and leaned back in his seat, glancing out the window. “I wish I could say you’re wrong…” he groaned. Of course, he was right. Loki generally had an uncanny intuition about Odin. Granted, he had a weird intuition about a lot of things. In the past, he’d never really paid it much mind. He always just thought he was being big ol’ worrywart Loki! Even when he was right, he never acknowledged it. He never really gave him much credit for things. “Brother-“ He’d turned back to the jotun, wishing to break the long silence. However, he found closed eyes and a peaceful expression greeting him. It seemed the clutch of drowsiness had stolen his sibling once more. The soft pitter patter of rain outside whispered to him like a lullaby and the gilded prince found himself smiling. He hoped this didn’t mean another coma, though. Sure, his brother needed his rest to heal, but he didn’t want him falling back into the thing he’s JUST escaped from.

  
The soft creaking of a door nearly made Thor leap out of his skin. He perked up and turned towards the threshold. Thankfully, it was merely Frigga. Only his wonderful, strong mother that would surely flip her lid if she knew of Odin’s decision. Thor’s smile faded. He gave her a quick bow of the head in a silent greeting, watching as she crossed the room to his brother’s bedside. An awkward emptiness seemed to fill the room as she gently pulled over another chair, persisting as she sat. There was very little to break the ice with. No ‘how are you’s or any sort of miniscule small talk would do. They both knew what really cluing to their thoughts. It’d have to appear sooner or later.

“How is he fairing…”

And there it was. The prince softly sighed, staring back down at his slumbering brother. “It seemed this sickness has exhausted him… He woke not too long ago, but… He fell back asleep nearly right away.” Frigga had taken up one of Loki’s hands in her own, and her grip on it now tightened. Her son shifted a bit in response to her grasp, brows furrowing in his dreams. At once, the pressure on his hand waned, and he seemed to calm. “And another thing…” The queen glanced up at her blonde son, coming to attention when he spoke. Oh gods, he felt guilty already. Thor managed to avert his gaze, letting out a pent up sigh. “Last night when I spoke to father, he… He said that Loki would be immediately returned to his cell, should he awaken…”

  
The silence that followed was not a pleasant one, and when he looked up, he wished he hadn’t. The soft blaze of fury burned deep in his mother’s eyes. Yet, she seemed to have control of it. She kept such raw emotion under her heel, strapped to a leash incase she ever felt the need to let go. To let it loose and wreck havoc on whomever she pleased. “And..?” Despite her inner rage, her voice was calm. Sure, it threatened to break at any second, but it was still relaxed in a way. “Did he say what he’d happen to do if anyone disagreed with him?” Thor immediately shook his head. His father hadn’t made any threats, but he did make it known he didn’t want to speak of it. Frigga looked away at last, glancing down towards the jotun. “Well then… I suppose it can’t hurt to bring it up to him..!”

  
Thor nearly jumped out of his skin when she stood. She wasn’t actually thinking of..? He leapt to his feet when she headed for the door, intercepting her halfway. “Wait! His hand rested on her arm, both stopping and turning her to face him. “The topic didn’t seem to… sit well with him last night. I fear speaking of it any more may upset him and make our situation worse…” Part of him knew she’d look at him like he was a fool. Nonetheless, it shocked him a bit when she did.

  
“All the more reason to!” Frigga gently brushed away Thor’s hand, stepping towards the dfoor a bit. “Honestly, you act as if I’ve never had to deal with his foul moods! Calm down! Look after your brother in my absence! I’ll fix this…” Her words seemed to silence him at last. She flashed Thor a small smile, giving his shoulder a small pat. “Don’t worry. Just relax and make sure he does the same. Your father’s temper will be no match for me, I can assure you that much.” At last, she turned and took her leave. The gilded prince could only stand there and watch her go. He felt the need to protect her. To protect everyone. Even his own mother. But, she was right. She’d handled an upset Odin many times before he was even thought of. He would probably justy drive his father into a frothing frenzy, but her? She would no doubt be able to set him straight. Whenever they disagreed, she always had a way of getting at least a bit of what she wanted. Case in point, Loki’s execution. The last time she had to do this type of business with the Allfather, she nearly lost a son. And she’d be damned if she was going to let it happen again.

Even still, the soft rumble of thunder wasn’t enough to curb Thor’s anxiety.


End file.
